


Desire's Curse

by SynapticSnap



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Slurs, Victim Blaming, kmeme fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2018-09-24 05:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9705506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SynapticSnap/pseuds/SynapticSnap
Summary: After a run in with a desire demon, Anders is left reeling from the loss of Justice. Around the same time, he notices he has a strange and horrible curse that ensnares him and any man who's close to him, causing them to go mad with lust for him and leaving him unable to resist or fight back.  With one exception, Fenris is somehow immune to the compulsion.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sad so I torture my favorite characters to make myself feel better. There's also another excellent fill for this by KinkMemeMary, so check that one out too.
> 
> Full Prompt:
> 
> "During the events of Kirkwall Anders is separated from Justice and a curse is placed on him.
> 
> The curse is that anytime Anders gets even the tiniest bit aroused around another man that man goes mad with lust and has to have Anders whether he agrees or not. Basically Anders is raped over and over again by all of his male companions and other men around Kirkwall."

The veil was thin in Kirkwall, it always made Anders twitchy, as a mage, he had always been sensitive to it, but with Justice pushing at his consciousness it was almost overwhelming sometimes. It almost felt like he himself could just slip past the veil and into Fade at any moment. The demons on the other side seemed to feel the same way, and they slipped into the mortal plane often enough.  


Anders sighed as he sidestepped a blast of ice aimed right at his face. As if the thinness of the veil wasn’t already problem enough. There were blood mages who insisted on summoning demons at every turn. Anders knew it was desperation that drove them, but their reliance on demons of all things wasn’t exactly helping his cause. The latest batch of blood mages had summoned a powerful desire demon, Anders could feel her tugging at the corners of his mind, and the answering rush of power from Justice, keeping her at bay.  


The battle had been fierce, and bloody, as it always is with opponents who insist on bleeding themselves. Anders sent a bolt of lightning from his staff and took a second to survey how his companions were faring, Fenris was a blue light blur on the other side of the field, pinned down by several shades, Anders knew he could handle it, so he turned his attention to Hawke and Varric. Varric was trapped in a glyph, Anders casted a quick barrier spell around him to keep him safe until the effects wore off. Hawke was…

“No! Hawke!”

He was suspended in the air, trapped in a crushing prison, his eyes glazed over as the demon cast its magic on him. Anders didn’t know how Hawke would last, he would either be crushed by the spell, or drawn into a pact by the demon. Anders felt the panic rush over him, he couldn’t, not Hawke. Then he felt the calm rush over him. They could save him. It wasn’t too late, they just had to act.  


Anders breathed in, focusing, feeling the fade wash over him, then he felt Justice’s power rush through him like a lightning bolt. He felt the world rush in vivid intensity, and his mind gained a clarity that it usually lacked. He knew what needed to be down now, there was no hesitation or room for second guessing. They summoned a barrier around themselves, and charged in, wielding the bladed end like a sword, like they were a warrior. A spell glanced of their barrier, and their blade sank into the blood mage’s throat, without stopping a bolt of arcane energy was hurled at the last mage, and he fell before them. One left, the demon.  


Justice roared, and hurled a ball of fire at the demon, following it up with another bolt of lightning. The demon screamed in agony, but then she was casting, and Anders faltered. he could feel his connection with Justice fading, and his words rushed through his head, as if they were two beings instead of one. 

Anders felt his body jolt forward like a ragdoll, his head spinning, splitting open as his thoughts poured out. He could feel the demon’s magic rushing through him, severing his ties to Justice, rending him apart from the inside, and he felt the demon, filling him where Justice had once been. Then Justice was gone, split from him, and in his last moments before blacking out he saw a shining warrior strike the demon down before dissipating into thin air.

He awoke disoriented and confused, three faces before him he swore he could recognize but their features ran together like his thoughts. One face pursed their lips and whistled, the sound shot through his head like an arrow, his thoughts echoing around it.  


“Wow, Blondie, you look, uh, you look awful. That demon got you good didn’t it?”  


Blondie. It settled in his thoughts easily, that tone, that name, it was familiar. He know this man. Varric. That was his name. 

“What was that? Did you see that light? It looked a warden that struck down that demon. Was that some kind of spell? Or was the demon just really fucking with my head there?”

A warden. He knew wardens. He was a warden. That’s right. He remembered. Anders sat up slowly, his head ached and his limbs protested, he felt like he had a hangover. Maker, did he hate blood magic and demons. Anders hesitated, something wasn’t right, something, something missing. No, someone, someone was missing. 

Anders blinked at his friends around him. There was Hawke, and Varric, and Fenris. That was everyone who had agreed to go with Hawke this time. But still something, not right. He wasn’t right. It was him, he was missing. Justice. Where was Justice.  


It wasn’t like Anders could talk to Justice, but he always felt him, a reassuring presence, urging him to action, but it was gone, and Anders’ mind rushed like water, he was scattered. The warden, that was Justice, Justice had…

He was gone. Anders knew. He felt that loss deeper than any he had known. But, that was selfish of him, wasn’t it? He had come to rely on Justice, and now Justice was gone, he was home. This was better, for both of them. Justice was a spirit, he was never meant to live like a human. Anders had been a single person, just human, once, he could learn to do it again.

“The warden, that was Justice. He’s gone now.”  
\-----  
The first night alone, Anders had cried from the emptiness, he was alone, utterly alone for the first time in years, and then he fell into a dreamless sleep. Blessedly free from nightmares. Anders had expected the nightmares to be worse than ever, without Justice to hold them back, but his dreams remained free from the arch demon’s song and the horde scratching at his brain.  


It wasn’t until days later that Anders finally hauled himself from his clinic. He had left the lantern unlit, and he did little but sleep. He had been so tired, he hadn’t realize how little he’d slept before. He hadn’t needed to, Justice kept him going. Varric and Hawke had dropped by a couple times and brought him food. Anders had eaten all of it, he had lost so much weight over the years, food was another thing he had neglected.

After moping around for four days, Anders’ loneliness finally urged him to take Hawke up on his open invitation to use his tab at the Hanged Man. Anders took his time in getting ready, washing, shaving, he even brushed his hair, leaving it loose. He’d normally just run his fingers through it and then hastily tie it up. Anders still had his cause, but maybe, without Justice, he and Hawke could…  


Anders shook the thought from his head, he shouldn’t get his hopes up like that. He still had his clinic, and the mages in Kirkwall, and without Justice managing it all would be harder. He didn’t have the time for Hawke, and Hawke deserved so much better than him.  
\--

The Hanged Man was loud, and smelled, like it always did, but Hawke Isabela and Varric were waving him over from a table. It was a familiar, the kind of familiarity that he needed right now.  
Isabela whistled at him,

“So, how’s our new bachelor doing? Are you back on the market now that that old stick in the mud is gone?”

Hawke elbowed her in the ribs, and she shoved him back playfully.

“Oh, I’m a bit too old for that now, I suppose, and just because Justice is gone doesn’t mean I can slack off. There are still plenty of templars to roast and mages to free. Not to mention the poor sods in Darktown 

who can’t go a day without needing someone to put their scrambled organs back together.”  
Anders pulled out a chair at the end of the table, and sat, running his hand through the loose hair that fell around his face.

“Are you sure about that, Blondie? You brushed your hair, and even shaved, trying to catch someone’s eye?”

Anders flushed. He was, he wanted Hawke to look at him, as selfish as that was, but was he really that transparent?

Isabela’s eyes narrowed knowingly as she observed him, but she stayed silent, she could be tactful if she wanted. Anders caught Hawke’s eye, he had been staring. Hawke’s face went red, and he coughed, and shouted to Nora to bring them a round.

It didn’t take long for the cards to come out, Anders groaned. He was terrible at this, and he was already feeling fuzzy from the drink. It had been so long since he had drank, it went to his head quickly, and that was not helping his game. He folded, throwing his hands in the air.

“Do you people have no shame? Stealing from your only healer! See who I help when they’re bleeding out.”

Hawke’s cards followed Anders’, “Cheaters, the both of them.”

Isabela snorted, “You know the rules Hawke, no saying the C word unless you have proof. But since you bring up fleecing our poor, penniless martyr, we could always bargain with something else. Clothes, maybe?”

“Not with you lot!” Anders protested, “you’re merciless, you’d have me stripped down to my smalls in no time, and then you’d ask for those too!”

Hawke looked at Anders open mouthed, “Alright. I’m in.”

Isabela cackled with laughter.

“Eager to see Blondie naked? You haven’t even bought the poor guy dinner yet!”

Anders’ heart stuttered. Hawke interested in him, but he wasn’t quite ready to address those repressed feelings, so instead he jumped out of his seat, his chair squealing across the floor. All three sets of eyes turned to stare at him for his sudden outburst.

“I um.. I’ll keep what’s left of my dignity, thank you. I’ll see you all later?”

With that Anders practically ran out the door.  
-

It was cold outside, but Anders was still warm and fuzzy headed from the alcohol, and his thoughts made his cheeks flush and his blood run hot. He kept thinking over the way Hawke had look at him, like he actually wanted him. It was something Anders hadn’t considered before,oh, he had ached for Hawke, but he never thought Hawke would want him to, even just a little.  


Anders had kissed many people in the circle, but with Hawke it would be different. They’d kiss, slow and gentle, They’d take their time. Anders wouldn’t have to fear Hawke being taken from him, they wouldn’t have to hide. Maybe it would be in Hawke’s home, his bed would be there if they wanted it, that would be nice. Anders had never actually had someone while in bed, but that’s what real lovers did.  


Anders made his way down the steps leading to the lift to Darktown, as he walked his thoughts grew more heated. He wondered what Hawke’s beard would would feel like beneath his hands, between his thighs… Anders’ breeches were getting tight now, he was embarrassed about getting this worked up over a few rather tame fantasies, he’d done far more many different people but it was different when it was Hawke he was thinking of. At least… At least Anders was alone. No on one had to know, his thoughts were his own now. He missed Justice, but there were some things he liked to keep private. 

Anders was jolted from his thoughts when he heard a sudden footfall behind him. Anders stiffened, ready to fight or flee, probably flee, he still wasn’t sure how his combat magic would be without Justice, but He didn’t get a chance to react before the stranger was at his back, shoving him into the wall.  


A foolish decision, really, attacking a mage like that, Anders reached for the fade to cast a mind blast, and reached, and reached. There was nothing, like a mental block, he couldn’t gather the force around himself. His mind flailed wildly, fire, it had to be fire, it was always there, especially when he panicked, but still nothing. It wasn’t like a smite, it was like he was frozen. 

Anders could hear the stranger, a man, breathing heavily into his ear, and his hands wrapped around him, gently, almost like a lover would. That’s not right, Anders didn’t know him. He tried to bring his head back, to smash into the man’s face, but his body itself was as unresponsive as his magic.

Anders’ mind was working in perfect clarity but his body was in a fog, and he could feel his panic rising. Justice, if only Justice, he would always act, he wouldn’t freeze like Anders would, but Justice was gone. One of the man’s hands forced its way down Anders’ pants, cupping his erection. Why, why was he still hard? He didn’t want this. He wanted Hawke, not some stranger. The other hand threaded through his hair, gripping it, and forced his head back. Anders inhaled, trying to scream, but all that came out were pleas,

“Please, no, I don’t want this.”

Tears prickled in the corners of Anders eyes. He was a warden and a mage. He could handle one back alley low life, so why wasn’t he?  
Then hand on his cock pulled out and began unlacing his trousers, while the man muttered in his ear, almost mindlessly,

“You’re a pretty one, aren’t you? So pretty, I’ll make you beg for me.”

Horror clawed it’s way around Anders throat. No, this can’t be, he thought he was done with being helpless, but he could do nothing as his trousers fell around his ankles, and his robes were pushed up. A finger brushed down his cleft, finding his hole and rubbing around it, before pressing in. It didn’t hurt, not yet, but Anders knew it would be agony if anything larger were forced up there without lubrication. Another finger, and Anders felt the discomfort, his tears falling faster now,

“Don’t, please, stop it, no.”

The fingers withdrew, and for a wild second Anders thought his pleading had worked, but then his attacker brought his hand down across his ass, making him whimper in fear and pain,

“Think I’m gonna fuck that tight ass, now, pretty.”

Anders sobbed, he was going to be raped, and he was going to let it happen, his body, his magic, all of it completely frozen, as his mind reeled in horror.  
He screamed in a silent rush of air as the cock penetrated him, tearing him in the process. It hurt, and oh maker, no, the stranger’s hand was back on his cock, and he was still hard. He thrust in shallowly, while grunting into Anders’ ear. The hand in Anders’ hair fell away to grip one hip, giving the man leverage to fuck into him harder. 

“No, no, no, no more, it hu-urts. Please, please, please, it hurts.”

Anders please fell from his lips in a mindless chant, as his backside alit with agony. It felt like his insides were on fire, he couldn’t take this, it hurt, it hurt so much. He could feel the blood trickling from his hole, and he only sobbed harder.  
The thrusts came harder and faster as the man reached his climax, he stilled, burying his cock deep inside Anders as his seed filled him. He stayed like that for a few moments, before slipping his softened cock out with a wet pop. He patted Anders backside, while praising him,

“So pretty, you look so pretty right now, and you beg and take it so well. What a good slut.”

A slut, he called Anders, as if he wanted it, as if he wanted any of this, Anders closed his eyes, and wished for this to be a dream. The man gave Anders’ ass one last slap, then let his robes fall back into place. Anders heard him fasten his trousers, before he walked away, his footsteps fading into the night. Anders sank down onto the ground, and lay in the dirt, his face tear streaked, and cum dripping from his entrance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more anders whump. also its fenders now, so at the end of the torture, fenris will be there to comfort poor anders.

Anders put himself back together in the solitude of his empty clinic. He had healed the worst of the damage before limping back, but he still had to scrub the evidence from his skin. It wasn’t a big deal, he told himself, he’d seen worse in the circle. He’d been brutalized before, beaten and spat on, this was no different. 

Except somehow it was. He wasn’t supposed to be weak or helpless anymore, he was a mage and a warden. But then Justice had promised he would never be alone again, and yet here he was. His thoughts echoing loudly through his empty mind, reliving it, his own desperate pleas, the frozen feeling of helplessness… 

He started out of his thoughts. No, self pity would get him nowhere, it didn’t matter anyway, it was over, and he’d spent the last four days feeling sorry for himself. Anders tossed his old clothes aside, he didn’t have much, but he at least had one extra outfit that was clean, if a little stained and threadbare. He dressed quickly and set to work. There was a lot to do to keep the clinic running, sheets to wash, bandages to roll, and potions to brew.

Anders had been lucky when he found the spot for the clinic, it was one of the few areas in Darktown that had vents that lead outside, so he could see the light filtering in as the sun rose. He had been working all night, and he could feel the tiredness creeping up on him, but he ignored it. He had gone much longer without sleep, even back before his warden days. Kicking him as he was falling asleep was a favorite game among the templars who had to stand night watches when they were bringing him back into the tower.

He seemed to feel the exhaustion more now though, since he lost Justice all he wanted to do was sleep, but he knew it would only bring nightmares of that night, so he unlocked his clinic doors and lit the lantern, letting Darktown know that their healer was in. It had been too long since he’d been open, he’d neglected his patients for far too long.

They trickled in throughout the day, many of them didn’t even need healing, and just wanted to check in on him, they had worried over him in his absence. He set a few broken bones and healed minor injuries that had been left to fester. He felt a sharp pang of guilt at that, if he had been open his patients wouldn’t have had to suffer through their ailments for so many days. 

It wasn’t uncommon for his friends to show up at his clinic, either for help or to drop off supplies for him. Most of them disagreed with his views on mage freedom, but they would all be hard pressed to come up with criticisms against the work he did in his clinic. Hawke donated the most, but it wasn’t unheard of for Aveline to donate confiscated goods, and while Varric never showed up himself, he knew the undercity gang members weren’t dropping off money and potions out of the goodness of their hearts.

Sebastian was a rarer sight, he donated of course, but he preferred to give it to Hawke to pass along, the animosity between them had never cooled down the way it had with Fenris, and Anders doubted that they’d ever find common ground. Still, when Sebastian showed up with a basket of goods Anders was still appreciative of the gesture. He was finishing up with his last patient, a young woman who had a large gash in her forehead from working in the mill. It wasn’t serious, but without magical healing it would have scarred. 

When he was done closing the wound, Anders handed her a fresh rag to clean the blood off her face, and then he set to cleaning up the area. He only stopped to acknowledge Sebastian with a nod of his head and a vague gesture to the back of the clinic, where he wanted the supplies. It could be considered rude, but Anders knew if he stopped to actually address him it would likely end in an argument. Normally Anders would be fine with the prospect, he knew all the buttons to push to really get Sebastian upset, but he just wasn’t feeling up to it after everything. Unluckily for him it seemed Sebastian wanted something else from him, when Anders turned back around he was standing in the middle of the clinic, shifting from foot to foot and looking horribly out of place. 

Anders sighed, he already knew where that conversation was going to go, everyone was interested to know just what he was like without Justice, but Sebastian was the last person that he wanted to talk to about it. He ignored Sebastian, with little hope that he would be put off, and continued to address his patient, even though she didn’t need anymore help from him, he still showed her out of the clinic,

“Thank you, messere. You really saved me.” She fluttered her eyelashes, and let her hand run gently down Anders’ arm before she broke away.

Her intent was clear, and she was a beautiful woman, in another life he would have accepted the offer, but he only smiled and bid her good night, closing the door behind her.

Now he found himself alone with Sebastian, but before he could turn to face him, he found himself pressed face-first into the door with a soft “oof!”.

“What are you doing? Get off me!” Anders said.

But Sebastian was nuzzling at his neck, his breath warm, and he found his cock stirring once more, even though this was the last thing he wanted. He didn’t fight back when Sebastian stripped him of his coat, discarding it carelessly to the floor.

Sebastian cradled Anders’ chin, tipping his head back to rest against the other man’s chest,

“I never realized how beautiful you were before. I want you.” Sebastian whispered.

Don’t touch me. I don’t want you. Still, Anders was helpless to resist. Horror clawed at Anders’ throat as Sebastian’s hands found their way to the laces of Anders’ trousers and pulled them off. He rubbed his hand over Anders stiff cock, tugging on it a few times as Anders’ moaned helplessly. It felt good and Anders’ hated himself for thinking that. He didn’t want this, and he certainly didn’t want to enjoy it.

Sebastian chuckled at his reaction, then wrapped both hands around Anders’ waist and lifted him, carrying him across the clinic to deposit him face first onto a cot. Soon after a cool potion was drizzled down his ass, and Sebastian’s hand followed, massaging him gently before delving between his cheeks to rub at his hole.

Anders closed his eyes, crying silently. It was almost like a normal consensual encounter, and Sebastian’s hands felt so good on him. He moaned aloud as two slick fingers pushed into him. 

“Aye, that’s it, Anders.” Sebastian whispered into Anders’ ear, the two fingers working his hole while his other hand slid down to cup Anders’ balls and rub at his taint.

Anders’ little grunts and groans were constant now, he couldn’t hold them back from the pure pleasure of it all. Oh, he hated it, and Sebastian was the last person he’d want touching him like this, but his strong fingers were rubbing him all the spots that made him feel good. 

Sebastian pulled his fingers from Anders’ ass with a wet sound and his other hand withdrew as well. To Anders’ mortification he let out an involuntary whine at the loss of contact. Sebastian’s belt clinked behind him, and a free hand brushed through Anders’ hair.

“Be patient, it’s coming.”

Anders didn’t even want it, but he was helpless to stop Sebastian from taking what he wanted, so he lay there pliantly as Sebastian lifted his hips off the cot, and slid his cock inside of him.

It slid in smoothly, stretching Anders’ rim around it pleasantly. Anders hated Sebastian, for raping him, for making him like it, and moan for it. And Anders did moan, with every thrust, as if he was enjoying being taken against his will. But he supposed maybe he did want it. He hadn’t protested, his cock was hard and weeping, and he was lying pliantly beneath Sebastian taking his cock so well. 

He was enjoying it so much that he came, his cock spurting and pulsing as he spilled his seed onto the cot beneath them. His ass clenched around Sebastian’s cock, causing him to come a moment later with a low groan. He collapsed onto Anders’ back, panting. 

As they lay there panting something changed. Anders could feel it, some sort of shift as if a small burst of magic had been dispelled, and then Sebastian cried out in horror.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In denial and plagued by nightmares, Anders get a bit of a reprieve from an unlikely source. Finally, a little bit of fenders interaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short, but Anders could use a bit of a break after everything.

Sebastian pulled out of Anders with a wet squelch and then rolled off of him to sit on the edge of the cot, his face cradled in his hands.

“Oh, maker, what have I done?” He despaired.

Anders sat up, he didn’t say anything, he just watched. He wasn’t sure what to make of this himself. He hated Sebastian, but he wasn’t the kind of person to hurt someone like that, and Anders hadn’t said no, hadn’t resisted. I didn’t say yes either. No, that wasn’t right. The old Anders would have said yes, and now that he didn’t have Justice, wasn’t he the old Anders again? It was fine, Anders enjoyed it, he had come. He hadn’t just been raped for the second time that week. 

Sebastian’s shoulders were hunched and tensed as he prayed.

“Was it really that bad?” Anders said, he tried to sound casual but his voice was too strained.

“Anders I- what happened? It was like there was a fog, like I couldn’t control my actions.”

“So you fucked me and now you regret it and don’t want to take responsibility for your broken vows. I’m sure the grand Cleric will buy that when you explain to her why you fucked the filthy apostate.” Anders taunted. 

“That’s not what happened. You were crying, there’s something going on, blood magic… Something isn’t right” Sebastian finally turned to look at Anders, and he had to turn away. He couldn’t face the guilt and turmoil and fear that reflected how Anders felt.

It wasn’t like Sebastian had done anything wrong. Nothing had happened. Anders was a slut. He spoke of his encounters in the circle often enough, and despite Sebastian’s vows he had the same proclivities Anders did, and now with Justice gone it was only natural that it would happen this way. 

Anders flashed a brittle smile, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was fine for me. I came on something other than my own hand for the first time in years. Now, if you’re done here, get out of my clinic.”

Sebastian seemed conflicted, like he’d press the point, but he seemed almost relieved that Anders wasn’t pressing the issue, and he left quickly after that. Anders waited until he left, and then barred the door behind him. 

-

That night Anders had nightmares. Hands grasping, tearing at his clothes, Sebastian’s cry of anguish, and the dark alley where the man he didn’t know had raped him. There wasn’t an ongoing narrative, just flashes of what had happened. One moment he was there in the dark alley, being violated, and the next moment he saw Justice, glowing brilliantly, shield held aloft, reaching for him… And then he was gone and there was only dark and the grasping hands and his own involuntary moans of pleasure in his ears as the hands stroked him inside and out. 

He snapped awake with a cry on his lips. He was alone. No one was here. He rolled over on his side, curling up into a ball, crying softly. He missed Justice. He wouldn’t be so weak, so afraid if Justice were with him. He didn’t sleep again that night. 

-

Two days later Hawke came for him. Anders had opened the clinic each day, and tended to his patients, his guilt would not allow him to neglect them again. 

“Anders, how have you been since… well, last I saw you? Are you ok to go on a job with us? We could use our favorite healer along for the ride. We’re going to the Wounded Coast.” Hawke had Merrill and Fenris along with him. 

“Of course, Hawke, I was a grey warden, I’m no weak, fainting damsel just because Justice isn’t around anymore.” Anders replied.

Hawke grinned widely, “Excellent! We’ll head out now.”

-

It had been a rough day fighting bandits and cutthroats that hid out among the rocky cliffs, but everyone was grateful to finally have Anders back among them, his healing magic was much better than any elf root potion. 

Hawke had elected to set up camp in a shallow cave, it gave them a barrier at their backs, and shelter from the winds blowing in from the ocean. Anders slumped against the wall. Maker, but he was exhausted. He hadn’t slept much at all, and without Justice he didn’t have the stamina he used to. Merrill came by to sit next to him. 

“Please, Merrill, whatever you have to say about Justice, just save it. I know joining with him wasn’t the best idea in the first place, but he was a part of me.” Anders cut her off before she could speak. 

“I understand. I just wanted to see how you were doing, but I’ll leave you to it, if that’s what you want.” With that, Merrill left him.  
-

Hawke had lit a fire, and they ate seated around it. Merrill and Hawke chatted happily, Fenris occasionally joining in. Hawke made an effort to include Anders, but he wasn’t up to socializing, and soon Hawke gave up his attempts. 

“Anders, you don’t look so good. I can take first watch, but you need to sleep.” Hawke said. 

“Oh, such a flatterer, you’re going to make me swoon.” Anders replied. 

Hawke blushed and sputtered, “I meant you looked tired, you ass!” he tossed a bedroll at Anders’ face, and he easily caught it, “just go to sleep.”

Anders couldn’t find a reason to argue, he took the bedroll back to the alcove and curled up, his back to the wall. It was fine, he wasn’t alone, his friends were here and they wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him. Even Merrill and Fenris would defend him if he needed it. He tried to tell himself he was safe, but he still had a feeling of wrongness, and he lay there unable to sleep, until the fire burned down and Merrill and Fenris turned in for the night as well. 

-  
Eventually, Anders fell asleep. Or well, he must have, considering the next thing he knew, Fenris was shaking him awake.

“Fenhedis, mage! Wake up!” His voice was urgent, but he still spoke in a low whisper.

Anders jolted beneath Fenris’ hands, almost crying out, but he stopped himself. 

“Maker, what are you doing you blighted elf?” Anders sat up, shoving Fenris away from him. 

“You were having a nightmare. You were crying and thrashing. Was it demons? It would not surprise me that they would prey on you now.” Fenris almost sounded concerned. 

Anders snorted derisively, “No, it wasn’t demons. I’m a grey warden, you know that. We all have delightful dreams about the archdemon and its horde of darkspawn every night. Justice was able to keep them at bay, but without him they’re worse.” It was a lie. Anders hadn’t dreamed of darkspawn since Justice had left, but he couldn’t tell Fenris the truth.

Fenris seemed unconvinced, “Very well, mage. I will be keeping watch, and I assure you, no darkspawn will get passed me. Go back to sleep, if you have another nightmare I will wake you up.”

Fenris was being surprisingly nice. Somehow, Anders was comforted, and when he finally fell back to sleep, he did not wake again until after the sunrise.


End file.
